


no personal relationships

by ironccap



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Embarrassment, Fluff, Heist husbands, Kissing, M/M, No Angst, Secret Relationship, Use of Homophobic Slur, bisexual Berlin, gay Palermo, getting caught, soft fic, use of racist slur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:48:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23286544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironccap/pseuds/ironccap
Summary: There was one strict rule. No personal relationships. It wasn't that hard. They just had to try and keep it under the radar. No big deal. Be subtle about it. They could do that, right?Spoiler alert: they could not.
Relationships: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa & Professor | Sergio Marquina, Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín, Palermo | Martín & Professor | Sergio Marquina
Comments: 12
Kudos: 250





	no personal relationships

**Author's Note:**

  * For [viajeramyra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/viajeramyra/gifts).



> Usually I post my notes at the end of a story. Why am I not doing it right now?
> 
> \- this story contains the use of a homophobic slur (in Spanish) that I did not censor, because it was a direct quote from one of the characters.
> 
> \- this story contains the use of a racist pejorative slur that I also did not censor, because it was a direct quote from one of the characters.
> 
> [DISCLAIMER: I do not in any way associate myself with the use of such words because they are harmful and offensive. Every person should be treated with respect and hate speech and discrimination are disgusting and gross.

Martín knew the heist was going to be dangerous. Dangerous and difficult. But he also knew that he had to be there. He'd promised Sergio and Andrés that he would. Normally, he didn't like to make promises to people. Many people he had known had broken theirs. He didn't belive in their value all that much anymore. But with Sergio and Andrés, it was different. Sergio was like the brother he'd never had, but very much needed.

And Andrés, well... Andrés was Andrés. There weren't enough words in Martíns already extended vocabulary that could describe how he felt towards him. Andrés was his soulmate, the only person he's ever loved, the only person he knew who had never broken his promise before, and also never would. He would do anything for him.

So, that's why he took part in the heist. Because Andrés wanted him there. Because Andrés trusted him enough to keep him there, close to him in the Bank of Spain.

"You'll keep me from spiraling.", Andrés had told him a few days before the heist, "you'll make sure I won't go batshit insane there. You're the only person that has ever successfully gotten me out of panic attacks before, Martín."

"I'm just afraid you're going to distract me, Andrés. And the other way around. I'm afraid I'm going to be too much of a distraction for you as well.", Andrés had raised his eyebrows at that remark. His mind had wandered off to more explicit scenarios. Martín felt his cheeks go warm.

"Andrés, please. That's not what I meant. I'm saying that maybe my presence will keep you from doing what needs to be done. What if I get hurt? What if — for some reason, whatever — I die? Would you still be able to move on and focus on the plan? Focus on saving the entire group?"

Andrés had fallen silent, the ever so present grin wiped off his face. He took a few steps in Martíns direction and carefully took him by the hand.

"Martín. Nothing is going to happen to you. Because the plan is perfect. We've worked ten years on this plan, ten long and hard years. There's nothing that can go wrong, cariño, because we've calculated all of it into the plan. Every misstep, every failure has at least ten other back-up plans. But I need you there. We need you there. You're the brain behind this, the engineer. Without you, we can't do this. You're the most valuable piece in this puzzle."

So that's why Martín decided to take part in the heist. Not because he wanted to. But because Andrés wanted him to. Wanted him there. Wanted him safe, with him. Martín was going to make sure nothing went wrong, he was going to make sure they succeeded and got away with doing the heist, without any complications. The heist had been their life's work.

[1 day later]

Sergio had recruited a group of remarkable people for the heist. Martín didn't like them. Well, he liked some of them. But he didn't trust them, yet. It was rather hard for him to trust others with their plan. Their plan had always been just between him and Andrés, they'd started brainstorming about it one day, and never stopped. And between all the warm summer nights and late evening conversations, a plan had formed, together with an unbreakable bond. A bond that turned into something much deeper than friendship. Something deeper than love, even. The connection between Martín and Andrés, it was rare. And incredibly valuable. So sharing their plans to a group of random strangers was hard for Martín to do. But, he had to do it. Because those strangers were important assets in the game they were about to play.

The group had grown closer to each other in the weeks before the heist was taking place. Martín had gotten to know them all a bit better and he really preferred Nairobi and Lisboa. Lisboa because she never put up with the shit some of her (mostly male) colleagues had given her when she still worked for the national police, because she was a survivor of her ex-husbands assault and because she was her own person, independent of anyone, ready to fight anyone who ever talked shit about the people she loved.

And Nairobi because she was tough. Tough, but also caring. She was a single mother who'd lost her son because she wanted to give him a better life. She knew that what she did was wrong, using him to get drugs, but at the time it had seemed like the best solution. It was either that or starve, because the bills kept on piling up. She took her responsibility for what she did, and she suffered more than enough for it already. Martín respected her a lot.

Despite everything, Martín started to feel more at easy every passing day. They were gonna do this heist and get away with it. All of them. Because the plan was fucking perfect. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

The only thing Martín and Andrés had to make sure, was that they kept their relationship under the radar. Because Sergio had told everyone in the group repeatedly that doing something like that was an absolute no-go. But it was alright. They could do it. They just had to act like two obviously straight dudes who were just friends. How difficult could it be?

Spoiler alert: very difficult.

[...]

"Everyone, listen carefully! I have some news for you. Good and bad. The bad thing is that the bank of Spain has been attacked. But, no worries, because the good news is that we are the attackers.", Martín had screamed into the hall. Andrés had watched him do so from afar, admiring his beautiful engineer. It felt good to see their beautifully crafted plan finally in motion. He had felt happy and satisfied. But, his mood had switched very quickly when one of the hostages had spoken to Martín. His Martín.

"You really think that this is going to work, don't you?", he — Gandia, a security guard, — had suddenly spoken. Palermo had turned around, raising his eyebrow.

"You really think that a worthless maricon, an ugly sudaca like you, could manage to get away with the gold from Spain?"

Currently, Andrés was fuming.

Martín was at a loss of words for a split second. The insult about his sexuality, had left him unfazed. Sadly, he was used to it. Back in Buenos Aires, kids had thrown the word around as if it didn't hold any weight. They'd treated it like an insignificant insult, like calling someone a bitch, or a loser.

It was the insult about his origin that struck him the most. He'd only ever heard it a few times before, said by ugly racists that couldn't stand an Argentine coming to live in their Spanish neighborhood. But each and every time it had been said, it had been like a blow to the stomach. It had felt as if he was insignificant, unnecessary, unwelcome, even hated.

All he could do was stare. Stare at Gandia while he tried so hard not to bash in his skull with a steel pipe. But ge couldn't do something like that. He had to follow the plan, the instructions given to him. He was about to say something back, about how Gandia could go and suck a dick, when he suddenly heard Andrés' voice through the hall.

"Excuse me, what did you just call him?", he said. All Martín could do was stare.

"I called him a maricon. Because that's what he is. Oh, and a sudaca, too. He should go back to his country. Ugly rat.", Gandia hissed.

"Okay, I see. I think that's enough out of you, Gandia. I think you better shut your mouth the fuck up, or I'll let someone give your family a brief visit. Do you know how much it costs to hire in an assassin?", Andrés answered. He was still smiling, but his eyes looked cold. Martín could see that he was about to lose it.

And also, Andrés was slowly getting his gun out of his pocket.

"Berlin.", Martín tried.

Andrés just took his gun, walking closer to Gandia.

"Berlin!", Martín tried again, this time a bit louder.

Andrés had put his gun on Gandia's head, ready to pull the trigger any minute now.

"Andrés! Por favor!", Martín screamed. As much as he wanted Andrés to just go and shoot that racist, homophobic piece of shit, it wasn't worth it. They had a plan to follow.

Suddenly, Andrés snapped out of his rage, turning around and locking eyes with Martín.

He lowered his gun.

"If you ever call him any of those names ever again, I'm gonna shoot you right through the head. I really don't care.", Andrés spit.

He tucked back his gun and walked to his office. Martín going after him immediately, followed by a string of curse words.

Meanwhile Nairobi just stood there, her eyebrows raised at the scenario that had just unfolded before her eyes.

[...]

Martín walked up to Andrés' little desk he had claimed in the Bank, and knocked on the door repeatedly.

No reaction.

"Andrés. Are you alright? Please, let me in."

Still, nothing happened.

"Andrés, carajo. I will slam down this fucking door if you don't open it in five seconds."

Finally, Martín heard the keys jangle and finally the door squeaked open. He entered, only to see Andrés looking rather upset.

"Andrés? What the hell happened out there?"

"What the hell happened?! He was insulting you, my dear!", Andrés basically yelled.

"I know he was. But that doesn't matter, Andrés. He's insignificant. I don't care about him, or whatever he says about me.", Martín tried to calm him down.

"But I saw it in your eyes! When he called you those slurs. You don't deserve any of that, Martín. God, I wanted to punch him square in the nose."

Martín took a few steps forward, sitting on the sofa next to Andrés. He carefully took Andrés' hand in his and started to draw soothing circles. "Don't worry, mi amor. I'm okay. Really. And I'm sure that piece of shit will shut his mouth. And if he doesn't, I'll handle it. I'm a big boy." , he smiled, jokingly.

Andrés just turned himself towards Martin. His eyes were very serious when he spoke again.

"I just want to make sure you're okay and safe, my engineer. Te quiero."

And if Martín had ever thought before that hearing those two words out loud, wouldn't have been that big of a deal, he could carefully bury that thought right about now, because his heart had suddenly gone into overdrive.

I love you too. I love you too, Andrés. That was what he wanted to say, but his mouth couldn't form any words. He felt as if his brain had just crashed.

And that was weird. Because he knew Andrés loved him. He knew that, because he loved Andrés just as much. It just felt so different, hearing it out loud. It was like a promise. It was as if Andrés was telling him he would never leave his side. He would be there for him, no matter what happened.

All Martín could do was lean in and kiss his love with all the devotion and passion that he felt. He wanted to make sure Andrés knew how much he loved him, too. And honestly, he didn't need words for that.

It was only after a few minutes of their passionate make-out session, that they suddenly heard a loud cough coming from the door. Assembled there stood Denver, Tokyo, Nairobi and Rio. While everyone else looked as if they wanted to just disappear, Nairobi just raised an eyebrow.

"Berlin?", she spoke, "the Professor needs you on the phone."

Andrés detached himself from Martín with a long and soft kiss and unfazed, he walked over to the door.

"I'll be back soon, my dear.", he gently spoke, leaving Martín on the couch.

"Oh, and, Nairobi, I've decided that the professors 'no personal relationships'-rule was a bit outdated, so we're not doing that anymore."

Nairobi just raised her shoulders, clearly being unimpressed. She quickly glanced over at Martín, who was still sitting there, trying to bite back his smile. He felt so goddamn happy, because — despite that fact that he was currently embarrassingly red from being walked in on — he had Andrés there. Andrés, who'd never leave his side and who'd always love him.

And together, they would be unstoppable.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this fic, if you enjoyed, please don't forget to leave kudo's! :)
> 
> You can always follow me on my [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/hannib4l).


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